


just like the ones i used to know

by soulpunkk



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe, data is trying his best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21877225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulpunkk/pseuds/soulpunkk
Summary: it's christmas time on the enterprise, but geordi doesn't seem to have gotten into the holiday spirit. data decides to take matters into his own hands.
Relationships: Data/Geordi La Forge
Comments: 12
Kudos: 92





	just like the ones i used to know

Data prided himself on his perceptiveness - he could not feel emotions, it was true, but he could at the very least be in tune to his friends’ emotions and do all he could to foster the positive feelings and assuage the negative ones. He engaged in subtle, small practices to improve his friends’ moods, like delivering Counselor Troi chocolates during her longer shifts or offering to spar with Lieutenant Worf after his particularly stressful days. He found himself most inclined to perform these small acts of kindness for Geordi; he spent a good amount of his free time doing small repairs in Engineering so Geordi wouldn’t need to bother himself with them, bringing Geordi something from the food replicator when a problem prohibited him from taking a break to eat, or even listening to Geordi’s favorite genres of music when he was alone so the two of them would have a point of commonality to explore in casual conversation. 

These acts were always done with the purest of intentions. Data just wanted his friends to be happy, or at least as happy as he could make them. However, due to his limited knowledge of human emotions, sometimes he was prone to making… small miscalculations.

Geordi had been looking fairly _glum_ recently. Data had scoured his databanks for the right word to fit his friend’s emotional state, and _glum_ seemed to be the best fit - he wasn’t in a _depression,_ nor was he _miserable, despondent,_ or _dolorous._ He was simply _glum,_ his smile a little weaker, his “Hey, Data”’s a little softer. It was a subtle change, but Data noticed that it persisted for four days in a row. On the fifth day, Data concluded that whatever was bothering Geordi was not something that Data could solve by bringing Geordi his morning coffee (though not for lack of trying - Data had delivered Geordi’s favorite - a hot mocha with cream and a little sugar, just like he liked it - to Engineering for last three mornings, which Geordi had thanked him for, of course, but neither the kind gesture nor the caffeine returned Geordi to his normal state). He had attempted to ask Geordi directly what was the matter, but Geordi had waved him off, stating that “It’s nothing, Data. Don’t worry, okay?” But Data _was_ worried - his friend was unhappy, and Data didn’t know what to do to help. 

Data occupied himself trying to parse out what exactly was bothering Geordi, and why he felt the need to hide the causation of his feelings from Data. After some time brainstorming and synthesizing context clues, Data had a realization - it was the holiday season, and Geordi wasn’t scheduled for a return to Earth for Christmas. Many crew members were taking shuttles back to their families, but the _Enterprise_ was currently engaged in an important scientific mission that required all higher ranking personnel on board and on call to jump into action whenever they were needed. If memory served, Geordi typically returned to his family on Earth around the month of December, but now that he was Chief Engineer, it was highly unlikely that he had gotten that luxury afforded to him. Data reasoned that this could very well be Geordi’s first Christmas away from his family, spent all alone in the vacuum of space. Something about that hypothesis made Data’s processor speed up, and not in a pleasant way.

Before he could stop himself, Data found himself planning activities to partake in with Geordi to distract him from the fact that he couldn’t meet with his family this Christmas. He flew through articles and resources about traditional Christmas practices and winter pastimes, wanting to give Geordi the best Christmas possible in the confines of the unyielding vacuum of space. In no time, Data had planned what he deemed to be a perfect itinerary of Christmas activities, all of which were sure to lift his best friend’s spirits. No matter what, Geordi was _not_ going to spend his Christmas alone. Not if Data could help it.

Christmas Day crept closer, and Data worked in secret to facilitate his plan. He wanted to surprise Geordi, so he did everything he was capable of doing by himself (programming the holodeck, replicating Christmas decorations, squeezing Spot into a Christmas sweater), and when he needed help, swore his accomplices to secrecy. Commander Riker offered to teach Data Christmas carols, Doctor Crusher and Counselor Troi coached him through selecting and wrapping gifts, and Lieutenant Worf proved himself to be a surprisingly competent baker. With his friends’ help, Data’s plan was entirely prepped and ready by Christmas Eve. All that was left was to put things into action. 

Data rang the bell to Geordi’s quarters after he was relieved of bridge duty that night, knowing Geordi also had the night off. He waited for his friend’s (notably tired sounding) “Come in,” before entering, taking solace in the way Geordi’s face brightened at Data’s entrance. “Data, buddy!” Geordi smiled, and Data felt himself returning the pleasantry. “What’s up?”

Data refrained from responding with information about which star clusters and planet systems were currently spatially above them, even though he knew that responding with the literal answer to Geordi’s statement would’ve made the man do that soft exhalation that was almost a laugh, followed by a fond _No, Data, you know what I meant,_ that would make Data’s cooling system whir into overdrive for a moment. Data couldn’t indulge that odd urge - he had business to take care of. 

“When does your shift begin tomorrow?” he asked, fully knowing the answer - Geordi had tomorrow off. Data had ensured it. He’d explained his plan to Captain Picard, who had given Data an indecipherable look, a knowing twinkle in his eye as he told Data that he would pull some strings so the two of them wouldn’t be needed at their posts on Christmas. Of course, the two of them were still on call if any developments were made in their research mission, but Data knew he had no control over that variable. He had, however, taken the time to do some preliminary calculations and figured that it was highly unlikely that either of them would be needed, so he elected not to worry about it.

Geordi flashed a smile at him, tired but genuine. “It doesn’t. Got the whole day off.” He looked glad for the downtime, but, if Data was reading him right, there seemed to be something sad behind his expression, something hollow and tired. Data hoped to fix that very soon.

“Excellent. Would you mind accompanying me to the bridge tomorrow morning?” He didn’t elaborate, hoping Geordi wouldn’t press him for details.

Geordi furrowed his brow suspiciously, but a small smile was playing on his lips. “How early tomorrow morning? You know I need my beauty sleep, Data.”

“Sleep will not affect your levels of attractiveness, Geordi. They are high enough as is.” Geordi gave him the _You Know What I Mean, You Snarky Android Bastard_ look, and Data just raised his eyebrows innocently. (He _had_ known what Geordi meant, of course, but a part of him had seen the opportunity to compliment Geordi and seized it without much other thought. Perhaps that was an instinct that Data should analyze. Later, of course.) “0900,” he answered, and watched as Geordi mulled it over for a second.

“Alright,” he finally decided on, sitting in his bed and pulling off his VISOR, “but that means I’m going to bed _right now_.” Geordi snuggled under his sheets and laid his head on his pillow, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. Data felt the corners of his lips curl up involuntarily. _Hm._ Another instinct for further analysis. “See you tomorrow,” he mumbled, the first pulls of sleep slurring his words a bit.

“Goodnight, Geordi,” Data said, turning off the light as he exited.

“G’night, Data,” Geordi answered before the door slid shut behind Data, barring him from Geordi until tomorrow morning. Data could hardly wait.

Data was in front of Geordi’s door right on time the next morning, ringing the bell and suppressing his urge to repeatedly ring it until Geordi appeared. Geordi appeared soon enough, still groggy from sleep but awake enough to greet Data with a lopsided smile. “Mornin’, Data.”

“Good morning, Geordi,” Data said with a little incline of his head. Geordi’s smile widened, and Data felt his fingers moving involuntarily in a pattern that could only be described as _fluttering._ Hm. He allowed Geordi to step into the hallway before offering his arm for Geordi to grab. “Shall we head to the bridge?”

Geordi nodded his affirmation and took Data’s arm, the two of them chatting easily as they strode towards the bridge. The physical contact with Geordi was mildly distracting - Data estimated that for the majority of their conversation, he was more focused on the warm press of Geordi’s hands against his arm than he was on their conversation. He would catch himself not listening and falter for a moment before diverting his attention back to the topic at hand, but whenever he let his mind wander, it always settled on reveling in the feeling of Geordi pressed close to him. 

They reached the bridge soon enough, and Data tried not to show his anticipation as the turbolift doors slid open. 

Sitting in the center of the bridge, right in front of the captain’s chair was a towering, glittering Christmas tree, covered in deep red ornaments, shining gold garland, and tiny lights thank twinkled like warm stars. The rest of the room was covered in similar decorations, and the rest of the bridge crew was already gathered around the tree, poking at the presents laid out underneath it. They turned to Geordi and Data, offering warm greetings and a staggered chorus of “Merry Christmas!” Geordi stared in surprise at the display before him, taking a moment to take it all in before turning to Data.

“Data, I d-” he started, but Counselor Troi cut him off, pressing cups of hot chocolate into their hands and ushering the two down towards the tree so everyone could start unwrapping presents.

“Merry Christmas,” Captain Picard greeted them, and Geordi and Data parroted it back at him. Geordi stood on the edges of the gathering, seemingly hesitant to join the group. Data leaned over to him, speaking quietly into his ear so no one would overhear.

"Do not worry, Geordi. I have put both of our names on everyone's presents, so it will not look as if you neglected to give anything out. Everyone here is also aware that this was a surprise to you, so I believe they will be understanding if you have bought your own gifts for everyone and wish to give them out at a later time." Geordi turned to Data and gave him an odd sort of look, one that Data would likely need to analyze later if he wished to decipher its exact meaning. Either way, Geordi moved to join the group with Data in tow, so he figured it would be alright to put that analyzation off for now. 

The two of them gathered around the tree with their friends, pulling on the matching “ugly sweaters” that Commander Riker had gifted everyone. They laughed and thanked one another for the presents, chatting easily as they sipped the hot chocolate in their hands. Data engaged in the festivities, of course, but he always kept Geordi in his peripherals, wanting to ensure that he was enjoying himself just as much as everyone else was. This was, after all, for his sake. If Geordi was unhappy in any way, Data would need to implement an immediate change in itinerary.

The crew returned to their posts after exchanging gifts, thanking one another for the thoughtful presents they’d received. Data turned to Geordi, his eyebrows raised pleasantly. “Would you like to join me for some breakfast? Lieutenant Worf has tutored me in the preparation of traditional human breakfast meals, but I do think assistance from an actual human would be beneficial.” 

Geordi raised his eyebrows, seemingly impressed with Data for having learned to actually cook something, rather than just replicate it. “I’m gonna say yes, and I need you to know it’s out of both me wanting to make sure you don’t burn the ship down, and my _extreme_ curiosity as to what Worf deems a _traditional human breakfast._ ” Data recognized the twinkle of humor in his friend’s tone, and met it with a warm smile before pulling Geordi off towards their underutilized but well outfitted kitchen.

Most crew members relied on the replicators for food, but for special occasions or recreation, a small kitchen had been set up to prepare food by hand. Commander Riker made frequent use of the space, and he and Lieutenant Worf would often spend time there together, trying to disgust one another with the food of their people (a friendly competition that Riker usually lost, since Worf had underwent a human upbringing, but Data supposed that the two were in it for the fun of the activity rather than the competition). The kitchen was currently empty, leaving Data and Geordi free to make whatever dish (and mess) they desired.

“So, Chef Data,” Geordi asked, “what’s on the menu this morning?”

“French toast and scrambled eggs,” Data reported. He omitted the fact that those two items were just about the only thing that Worf had deemed him capable of cooking without causing an absolute catastrophe.

Geordi’s brow wrinkled, considering that for a second. “And you’re _sure_ you know how to make that?”

Data’s eyebrows quirked. “It is not a question of _knowing,_ Geordi. I have a large array of cooking resources available both within my databanks and amongst those of the ship's. Mechanically, I can cook just about anything. Worf has informed me that I lack the _spirit_ of cooking. He told me that if my _heart_ is not in the dish, then the final product will not come out right, no matter what.”

Geordi laughed, throwing his head back and placing a hand on his stomach. Data caught himself tracking the moment more closely than he normally did. “Sounds like Worf,” he said casually, turning to peruse the ingredients at hand. “C’mon, I think between the two of us we can get this figured out.” Data would certainly hope so - if two senior officers couldn’t manage _eggs and toast,_ there was very little hope for their ability to command a starship. 

It took a few tries, but the two of them eventually figured it out. Data had found multiple recipes that suggested adding a splash of milk to one’s scrambled eggs. Geordi was wary of it, but Data insisted - it was unlikely that so many sources could be wrong. However, they misjudged how much a _splash_ was, and ended up with a mess of curdling, uncookable _goop_ in the bottom of their pan. Data eventually conceded to Geordi’s cooking method, sans milk, and only then were they able to create a passable serving of scrambled eggs. 

The french toast went a lot more smoothly, now that the two of them were relaxing into the swing of cooking. Data had requested the computer to play a mix of traditional Christmas music, so smooth, jazzy tunes filtered into the room as they moved around one another, building up a rhythm and working in synchronization. A few songs in, Geordi started to hum along to the music, swaying his hips in time to the beat. Data continued cooking for a while, but soon found his progress in that endeavor inhibited by Geordi grabbing his wrists and pulling him into a dance. 

Data knew how to dance. Doctor Crusher had taught him a sizable number of genres, ranging from ballroom to samba to avant garde jazz. But _this_ sort of dancing, moving freely and intuitively to the music without any set rules or guidelines? Data was just about clueless. Geordi tried getting Data to sway along, but Data found himself struggling to carry it out with the same effortless joy that Geordi moved with. The current song ended and a slower, quieter song began to play, a rendition of _I’ll Be Home for Christmas._ Data thought their foray into dancing would come to a close at the tonal change, but Geordi apparently had different plans. He extended a hand for Data to take, the other bent behind his back and his head inclined in a mock bow. His gaze was turned respectfully to the floor, but after staying in that position for a moment without feeling Data take his hand, he looked up with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

“We can fit in a dance before the toast burns,” he said with a soft laugh. “Probably.” 

The reassurance was enough to jolt Data out of his momentary stupor - he took Geordi’s hand easily, grateful for a dance he was more familiar with. Data took to leading, his hand laid on Geordi’s back and Geordi’s falling softly on his arm. They moved around the room, hands clasped as they laughed to the music. Sometimes Geordi would take the lead, pulling them into a spin or even venturing to _dip_ Data, which miraculously _didn’t_ end in disaster. The song came to a close and they stopped moving, breathless and smiling as they held each other’s gaze. They stayed like that for a moment too long, only jolting apart when Data registered an odd odor in the room. **_The toast-_ **

One unsalvageable batch of french toast later, the two of them set out to redo their efforts when the kitchen door slid open. 

“You two need any help?” asked Commander Riker, standing in the door frame with a knowing (and _very_ amused) expression. 

Data knew that he and Geordi were prone to pushing themselves further than they should before asking for help, believing that their problems were their responsibilities and theirs alone, and not wanting to inconvenience anyone by requesting assistance. However, their time on the _Enterprise_ as well as their time with one another had helped them recognize these patterns in themselves and learn to accept aid when they needed it - especially when that aid came in the form of Riker’s exquisite cooking skills. A quick glance was all that Data and Geordi needed to convey their mutual understanding of this, which they shared for a moment before turning back to Riker and nodding. 

“Please,” Geordi said on a shaky exhale, something that could’ve almost been a laugh if it wasn’t so clearly a sigh of relief. Data found himself wholeheartedly agreeing with Geordi’s sentiment. 

Asking the computer to pick up a jazzier Christmas album, Riker started flying through the cooking process, frying up bacon and whisking pancake mix while he was at it. Geordi and Data hung back a bit, sometimes stepping in to help crack an egg or pour some batter, but for the most part they just watched in awe as their Commander made cooking look like it was the easiest thing in the galaxy. 

They thanked Riker and took their food to go, knowing that he’d call the rest of the crew in to help with the leftovers. Data would’ve stayed and mingled again, but he had other plans for the day.

Ignoring Geordi’s requests to be told where they were going, Data made his way towards holodeck two, where he had loaded in all the programs they’d be enjoying today. Geordi eyed him suspiciously as they arrived at the door, but said nothing as Data pulled up the program and ushered his friend in. 

The room quickly oriented itself, placing the two of them inside a warm wooden cabin, lit by the light of the rising sun and the glowing crackle of a burning fireplace. Stockings hung along the mantelpiece and the scent of pine and nutmeg lingered in the air. Outside, fat snowflakes were falling slowly to the ground, collecting on the piles of dazzling white snow that had already built up around them. Data turned to Geordi, hoping to gauge his reaction.

“Geez, Data,” Geordi exhaled, his eyes wide as he took in the room. “This is gorgeous. I haven’t seen snow like this since…”

“We visited an L-class planet that exhibited similar weather patterns seven months, one week, and two days ago,” Data supplied helpfully.

“Right,” Geordi said, but it was delivered absently, as Geordi was distracted by running his free hand over the intricately carved wood that framed the fireplace. Data felt a pulling sensation in his chest, odd but not entirely unpleasant. He moved over to a plush chair situated by the fire and sat in it, gesturing for Geordi to do the same. He did, and the two of them settled into their late breakfast.

They passed the rest of their morning like that, chatting easily and basking in the warmth of the fire (Geordi more so than Data, of course, but Data figured that the exact semantics of it didn’t really matter). If Data didn’t know any better, he’d say that it _seemed_ as though Geordi had something on his mind, that he had something he wanted to tell Data. Data gave him ample opportunity to bring up whatever was on his mind in conversation, calculating a total of six conversational lulls where Geordi could’ve commandeered the subject to a topic of his choosing. Each time, however, Geordi didn’t take the chance, either letting Data pick their conversation back up or steering it towards something innocuous and unrelated to the way he kept shifting in his seat and avoiding Data's gaze. Data made a mental note to prompt Geordi about what was bothering him later if the issue didn’t resolve itself.

After a while, Data pulled out some warm clothes he’d prepared, scarves and gloves and jackets and hats, handing them to Geordi and informing him to get dressed. Geordi raised a questioning eyebrow but went along with it, now understanding that Data wasn’t going to spoil any of the day’s surprises for him, no matter how many times he asked where they were going or what they were doing. Once they were suitably bundled up and prepared for the simulated cold outside (Data’s bundling being more so for the aesthetic and the experience than for any practical warmth retaining reasons, being an android and all), Data took Geordi by the glove-clad hand and led him outside.

“Where are we _going?_ ” Geordi asked, knowing fully well Data wouldn’t answer. Snow was falling around them, a flurry of huge snowflakes sailing delicately through the air, settling on Geordi’s hat, his shoulders, flashing starkly on his skin before melting into his cheeks, his nose. Data found the sight… _distracting_ seemed to be the most fitting term. 

They walked for a while, Geordi marveling at the sight before him (Data suspected he was just as awed by Data’s programming as he was by the actual sensation of snow, which brought a smile to Data’s lips and a warm, tingly haze to his mind) and Data pulling him onwards to their next destination. 

They reached an odd sort of archway, two skinny pine trees that leaned in towards one another at the top, the tips of their branches touching in the middle. Geordi fixed Data with a confused look, which Data just quirked an eyebrow at before turning back to the archway. 

“Data, wha-” Geordi started, but at the sound of his voice, the scene before them sprung to life. Christmas lights flicked on, bulbs brightening one after another, racing up the length of the two first trees, curling around them in a twinkling rainbow. The archway finished its illumination cycle, and then the landscape behind it sprung to life, thousands of Christmas lights wrapping around trees, bushes, buildings, creating a lightshow wonderland that knocked the wind right out of Geordi. The natural light of the simulated sun had dimmed to accommodate for the new light source, making them shine even brighter against the darkened backdrop. Data was looking to Geordi, hoping to gauge his reaction. He had done his best to ensure that the lights would look just as beautiful with the VISOR as they did without, but Data couldn’t deny that an unpleasant sensation was twisting in his gut as he anticipated Geordi’s opinion.

“ _Data_ ,” Geordi breathed, his mouth slightly agape as he looked around him, his head turning from side to side in an attempt to take it all in. “This is…” He stopped, dragging himself away from the twinkling lights to look at Data. “I’ve never seen anything so _magical._ ”

The churning sensation in Data’s abdomen subsided, and he felt himself release a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “Would you like to explore?” Data asked, his hand still grasping Geordi’s wrist.

“ _Would_ I,” Geordi said, and he reached around to take Data’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers. It was an odd sensation, the intimacy and sincerity of the gesture offset by the layers of warm fabric separating their skin, and the whole thing made even more odd by the irregularity it was inspiring in Data’s breathing patterns. 

They wandered through the lightshow, Data and Geordi taking turns describing their perception of the lights to one another. Data was fascinated by Geordi’s descriptions of the lights - intellectually, Data understood that Geordi saw the world in a different way from everyone else (quite literally), but it was always enrapturing to hear him talk about it, to get a glimpse into the way Geordi’s mind worked, to see in the different, unique, exceptional, _beautiful_ way that Geordi did. 

They finished their tour, equally breathless and enchanted (despite the fact that in theory, Data wasn’t supposed to be able to feel _either_ of those things). Data, of course, didn’t experience cold like humans did, and therefore didn’t _need_ to press into Geordi to maintain an ideal body temperature. Still, Data found himself doing so anyways, and luckily Geordi didn’t seem to question the illogicality behind it.

“So,” Geordi said as they settled underneath a towering tree with golden lights wrapped around it, some of which hung down from the snow-covered branches and swayed in the soft breeze. “What next?” 

Data raised an eyebrow, the tiniest of smiles playing on his lips before, as if on cue, a snowball whizzed through the air, hitting Geordi’s shoulder. Geordi, startled into laughter, turned around towards the direction of the assault, finding the rest of the _Enterprise_ 's bridge crew advancing on them, brandishing snowballs and giant, wicked grins. 

“Data?” Geordi asked wildly, exhilaration and a mild terror mingling on his face.

“I suggest we seek cover, Geordi,” he intoned, and Data heard him mutter an amused “ _Yeah no shit,_ ” before grabbing Data’s wrist and taking off, doing his best to dodge the snowballs their friends were hurling at them along the way.

The group naturally divided into teams, Geordi and Data finding cover and making as much ammunition as they could, Worf and Riker hunting down their opponents and attempting to ambush the others as frequently as possible, and Deanna and Beverly landing more hits than anyone despite not employing any discernible strategy. The group ran about the program, making impromptu forts, using tree trunks to duck behind, tumbling through the snow in an attempt to not get hit (but covering themselves in more snow than just taking the hit would’ve done - Data suspected it was the principle of the thing). 

Data and Geordi were currently attempting to outrun Riker and Worf, who were trying to line up the perfect shot, even as Deanna and Beverly pelted them with snow from a distance. Finally, Riker seemed satisfied with his angle and sent a snowball sailing through the air, on course to collide with Geordi’s head. At the last second, however, Geordi caught the movement and ducked, avoiding the face full of cold snow. And at the _very same second,_ the door to the holodeck opened right behind Geordi, causing Riker's snowball to land squarely in the face of the pour soul standing in the doorway.

And who would that poor soul be? Well, who else would be searching for the location of the _entirety_ of his senior bridge crew but the one man responsible for them all, the captain? Captain Picard, currently standing in the doorway with a face full of snow, the snow made no less unpleasantly wet and cold by the fact that it was simulated. 

_Whoops._

Everyone froze in their tracks, staring at Captain Picard with varying degrees of humor and horror. He took a deep breath and wiped his face, opening his eyes to fully take in the sight before him. No one dared to speak, to move. Data sensed his friend weren’t even daring to _breathe._

“Who,” the captain started, his tone flat, slow, unreadable, “threw that.”

A moment of quiet shuffling, and then Riker sheepishly spoke. “Um, I did, Captain.” He offered a good humored smile, but even Data saw it waver under Captain Picard’s stern gaze.

The silence stretched amongst them, growing to the point where Data himself felt a little unnerved by it. But before anyone could break it, Captain Picard _sprang_ into action, moving into the room and gathering a chunk of snow together before Data could even process the change. Then, with perfect aim, Captain Picard _whipped_ the snowball at Riker, hitting him square in the chest with enough force to make him stumble backwards. Riker gave a little laugh, somewhere between playfully affronted and entirely relieved, but before he could retaliate, the captain was off, running off to take cover and disappearing behind the trees. The game immediately picked back up, only this time their teams had dissolved and every man, woman, and android was fighting for themselves. 

They kept playing until they were red in the face, their hair wet from the falling snow and their breath heaving from all the running and throwing and laughing. Captain Picard was the one to put it to an end, calling a truce with everybody and coaxing them out of hiding to shake hands. Data was still thinking about the look of delighted surprise and competitive determination Geordi had sported when he’d managed to hit him square between the shoulder blades - the only thing that managed to get that image out of his head was the sight of Geordi’s warm smile as they shook hands, his shoulders heaving and his lips slightly parted as he tried to return his breathing back to normal. Data felt breathless too, but not because of the physical exertion. Why Geordi’s grin was causing his programming to malfunction in this way, he wasn’t sure, but he _was_ sure that he could figure it out. Later, of course.

Captain Picard hadn’t interrupted their game without a purpose - he needed Commander Riker and Doctor Crusher’s help with something, and led them away from the holodeck to change into dry clothes so they could tackle whatever issue they needed to deal with. That left Deanna and Worf left behind in the holodeck, and luckily Data had already talked with them about what was next on the agenda.

“Back to the cabin?” Deanna suggested, and Data noted the way Geordi’s eyebrows quirked at that, as if he was surprised Deanna knew more about what they were doing next than he did.

“Indeed,” Data nodded, and the group went back to the cozy building, where warm clothes were prepared for them to change into. Once they were dry and comfortable, Worf went to the kitchen, digging in the cabinets for something to cook for lunch. Data had stocked them with the ingredients he’d requested - Worf had assured him that despite his heritage, he’d celebrated human holidays all throughout his childhood, and his family had ensured he was more than capable of cooking traditional holiday meals. 

Deanna started preparing her famous hot cocoa recipe, suggesting that they put one some Christmas movies to watch as the food cooked. 

“Any preferences, Geordi?” Data asked, turning to look at the man sitting beside him on the comfortable leather couch. Geordi’s face contorted, that same _I want to tell you something_ look that kept popping up and twisting his features. He ruminated on that for a moment before the expression cleared, and he shook his head.

“Um, not really, no. Honestly, I haven’t seen that many Christmas movies.”

Deanna and, to Data’s mild surprise, _Worf_ , gasped at that, their heads whipping around to look at Geordi. “Really?” Deanna asked, disbelieving.

“Geordi, I am a _Klingon_ from a predominantly _Jewish household,_ and even _I_ have seen such classics as _White Christmas_ and _Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_.” 

For whatever reason, Geordi laughed at that, snorting from his nose and leaning over, ducking his head down as laughter overtook him. Worf looked just as uncomprehending towards Geordi’s amusement as Data felt, but Data allowed his lack of understanding to fall to the wayside as he basked in the warmth of Geordi’s laughter.

“Do _you_ have any recommendations then, Worf?” Geordi asked as he recovered, and Worf gave an indignant grunt that suggested _of course he had recommendations, any self respecting Klingon would._ Which is how the four of them settled into watching _How the_ _  
_ _Grinch Stole Christmas_ as they sipped Deanna’s divine hot cocoa and ate the full turkey lunch Worf had whipped up. It was delightful, and by the end of the movie, Data found himself wrapped up in a blanket with Geordi, Geordi’s head resting comfortably on his shoulder. Worf immediately began the cleaning process, which Data was very grateful for - oddly, he couldn’t find it in himself to move. 

Deanna excused herself soon after, thanking them for the lovely time and saying something about needing to put up some last minute decorations. Worf followed soon after, having to return to the bridge for the start of his shift. Which meant it was time for the next item on their itinerary, despite how comfortable Data had found their current activity. 

Data managed, after a considerable amount of time, to coax Geordi up from the couch, having him change back into the “ugly” Christmas sweater he’d been gifted this morning. They exited the holodeck, Data powering down the simulation as they did. Geordi fixed Data with an expectant stare in lieu of asking what was next, and Data found himself smiling as he led Geordi down the hall to their next destination. 

They took the turbolift to Ten Forward, where Data had organized a small get together. Beverly, Riker, Guinan, and a handful of other crew members were at the bar waiting for them, holding on to various instruments and passing around sheet music. Geordi threw Data another quizzical look, and Data explained himself.

“Geordi, are you familiar with the traditional practice of Christmas caroling?” 

Geordi frowned, his forehead creasing as he did. “Familiar? Well yes, Data, but experienced?” The two of them had made their way over to the group, Data grabbing his violin from Guinan with a thankful incline of his head. “Not very.” Data began shuffling through sheet music, handing Geordi the vocal parts, which Geordi looked at like they were in a foreign language. Which to him, Data supposed, they were. “Data, I’m not sure if I can-” Geordi started, expressing his doubts, but Data cut him off. 

“Guinan,” he spoke up, pulling her attention away from where Riker and Beverly were attempting to teach her the melody of _Silent Night._ Guinan, not being human, didn’t celebrate Christmas, but she enjoyed the festivities of the event enough to say yes when Data had asked her if she was interested in caroling with them. “Do you have any spare instruments for Geordi?”

Guinan, knowing fully well that Geordi had next to no musical knowledge, thought for a moment before smiling and giving a quick nod. She ducked underneath the bar for a second before coming back up with a set of sleigh bells, arranged on a stick that Data knew was meant to be held with the bells pointing downwards so that one’s free hand could hit the top of the handle and cause the bells to jingle to the beat. Jingle bells, he believed they were called. “This should work,” she said, and held it out to Geordi. 

He took the instrument, thanking Guinan and giving it an experimental rattle. Data frowned, and he spent the few minutes their little group took to organize themselves teaching Geordi the correct way to play the instrument and letting him know that if he wasn’t comfortable singing, there was no need for him to do so. The small amount of tension present in Geordi’s shoulders had released by the time their group had set out, which Data was glad to see. 

They toured the ship, playing and singing classic carols for the rest of the crew. Most of the time, people would join them in singing, which was especially exciting. Data couldn’t help but notice that despite the crew’s enthusiasm, Geordi never sang along. Which was completely fine - he did seem to be having a good time, laughing and smiling as he played his bells, and that was all Data was hoping for. Still, Geordi had never been shy to sing before, at least not around Data. He’d heard the man sing to himself as he worked on things in Engineering, hum quietly along to Data’s music whenever he practiced violin around Geordi, even participate in some of the recreational movie sing alongs the crew would host from time to time. Data wondered what made this time different.

They caroled for the better part of the afternoon, taking them into dinner time before the group parted, sharing thank yous and farewells outside of Ten Forward. Geordi returned his sleigh bells, and Data noted the tired edges to his smile, the way his shoulders sagged as they said their goodbyes. Data had accounted for that - their itinerary for the day was just coming to a close.

Data led Geordi back to his room, holding onto Geordi’s hand as he did so. Data felt an odd, inexplicable tightness in his chest that subsided the moment Geordi interlocked their fingers, resting his head on Data’s shoulder as he fell into step beside him. Hm.

They arrived at Geordi’s room and Geordi extracted himself from Data’s side, standing in his door frame and turning to look at Data. That look was back on his face, something guilty and sheepish and Data _wished_ he would just say what was on his mind. 

Data gave him ample time to voice his thoughts but Geordi remained silent, so Data carried on to the last thing he had prepared for the day.

“Geordi, I understand that we have already exchanged gifts this morning, as is tradition. However, I have prepared something for you that I wanted to give in private.”

“Oh, Data, you don’t have to-” Geordi started, but Data shook his head.

“While I appreciate the modest sentiment your refusal of my gift is meant to portray, I feel strongly that you should have this, as it was made expressly for you.” Geordi raised his eyebrows, something Data couldn’t decipher painting his features. A beat, and then Data spoke again. “Please, Geordi.” And at that, all of Geordi’s protests melted away, something in his expression turning soft, touched. Data’s processor stuttered.

Data pulled a small parcel out of his back pocket, a little rectangle covered in sturdy brown paper with little Christmas trees inked over it, tied together with twine in a simple bow. Geordi looked between the gift and Data’s face, almost disbelieving. Data, all wide eyes and bright expectancy, held out the gift to Geordi, motioning for him to take it. Geordi did, unwrapping it with a sort of numb surprise, but Data noted that the look of _I really need to tell you something_ was still lurking underneath. 

Geordi unwrapped the gift slowly, careful to untie the knot of twine and pull the paper apart without ripping it. Finally, Geordi revealed a small leather notebook, bound together by a strip of leather that tied around the length of the book. Geordi opened it, finding each page to be filled with small, perfect letters, all arranged into a multitude of poems that Data had written for him. Geordi’s breath caught as he realized what he was holding, flipping quickly through the pages to confirm what he’d been gifted. 

“ _Jesus,_ Data,” Geordi exhaled. “I- _thank you._ This is incredible.” 

“You are welcome, Geordi,” Data said simply, and then he waited. Sure enough, that _look_ returned to Geordi’s face, more intense now than it had ever been, and Data waited patiently as it played itself out. Another couple of moments, and then Geordi was speaking again.

“Data, I- I’ve had a really great time today and I’m _flattered_ that you did so much to make my Christmas special, but.” He took a breath, Data knowing that he was pressing his eyes shut underneath his VISOR, despite the fact that it would no nothing to inhibit his vision - something he often did when he was stressed, overwhelmed, or nervous. Data wished he knew of a better way to alleviate those feelings, but the best he could figure right now was to let Geordi take things at his own pace. “Data, I’m Jewish.” 

…

Oh.

_Oh._

_That_ would explain Geordi’s perplexing glumness at the Christmas cheer on the ship. And would _also_ explain why Geordi kept trying to bring this up throughout the _extremely Christmas themed_ activities Data had led him through. And why he didn’t know the words to any classical Christmas songs. And why he’d never seen a Christmas movie before. (Although considering Data’s understanding of humanity, that _still_ seemed a little odd - not a _single_ Christmas movie? If Geordi wasn’t opposed, Data still knew of some classics he’d love to watch with him.)

“Geordi,” Data spoke after a good few seconds of silent processing (which, for Data’s systems, was a _considerable_ amount of time). “I- I am _so sorry-_ ”

“No!” Geordi interjected. “Don’t be. Data, like I said, I had a _great_ time today. Did- did you do all of this for me? Just because you… you thought I was sad about Christmas?”

Data nodded, unable to meet Geordi’s eye. “I had noticed that you looked especially glum, and through a series of assumptions, surmised that it was being caused by spending Christmas away from your family. This _is_ your first holiday season stationed aboard the ship, so I. I wanted to make it special for you.” 

Geordi looked at him in silence, and after a few moments Data dared to lift his eyes to Gerodi’s face. There was no judgement, no shame, no disappointment or even teasing amusement. There was only what Data could describe as astonished wonder and a quiet, pensive appreciation, both of which inspired some _very irregular feelings_ in Data’s _everything._ His databanks, which had been quietly amassing data about Data’s odd physical reactions all day, finally settled on an explanation for these malfunctions comparable to the human experience - a _crush._

“Tell you what, Data,” Geordi said, and the soft upturn of his lips combined with this new revelation ( _crush crush crush crush_ \- Data couldn’t keep himself from turning the word over in his head with a fascinated revelry). “You’ve given me an _amazing_ lesson in the proper way to celebrate Christmas. How about _I_ teach you how I celebrate Hanukkah?”

Data nodded enthusiastically, happy with the spin Geordi had put on things, happy that he hadn’t ended up making Geordi feel _worse._ “I believe that is an agreeable course of action.”

Geordi snorted, an easy smile settling over his lips. “Well, lucky for you, it hasn’t started yet, so we’ve got a little time to kill. I do have my _own_ Christmas traditions that we can try out in the meanwhile - mainly putting on some comfy pjs, replicating some American Chinese food, and putting on some cheesy rom-coms for the night. I could teach you how to play dreidel, explain the whole menorah thing. Interested?”

Data nodded. “Very. Have you ever seen _Love, Actually_?” 

Geordi cocked his head. “Must’ve missed that one.” Data’s eyebrow quirked - not a _single_ Christmas movie! “I can start it now, if you want?”

Data pursed his lips, his eyebrows drawn in. “I would love to, but I am afraid that there is one factor that prohibits us from doing so.” Geordi frowned uncomprehendingly, an eyebrow arching to ask Data what he meant. Data elaborated. “I believe I now know what _last minute decorations_ Deanna was referring to.” He cast his eyes upwards and Geordi’s gaze followed, both of them looking to the sprig of foliage affixed to Geordi’s door frame, white berries contrasting with the green leaves and the red bow that kept it secured. Mistletoe. Hanging _directly_ above their heads.

Data looked back down to Geordi, who was fixing Data with a bright (if not a little nervous) smile. “Y’know, that’s one Christmas tradition that I _do_ understand.”

Data nodded absently, leaning in closer to Geordi without consciously moving. “And do you practice this tradition?”

Geordi smiled even wider, and Data felt _dazzled_ by its radiance. “I do.” And they leaned in the tiniest bit more, closing the distance between their lips and melting into one another. Geordi was warm, steady, soft against him, the press of his lips making Data’s head cloud in a way that should have been terrifying but was, in fact, _delightful._ They pulled away from one another, Data gasping for air as his hands lingered over Geordi’s face, caressing his cheeks, his jaw. Not wanting to let go.

“Merry Christmas, Data,” Geordi breathed, and Data could _feel_ the way he smiled through it.

“Happy Hanukkah, Geordi,” Data intoned, and something about it made Geordi burst into laughter, taking Data by the wrist and pulling him into the room. They settled in for the night, putting on _Love, Actually_ and digging into some orange chicken, just as Geordi had promised. Data leaned in to Geordi’s warmth, the two of them spending the rest of their Christmas tangled up in one another, with laughter in the air and affection burning in their hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays, folks! stan daforge for clear skin! yall can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/daforged) or [tumblr](https://libertinebucky.tumblr.com) if you wanna talk more abt these good good boys! stay safe, stay warm, and thanks for reading!


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